


What We Deserve

by carsandtelephones37



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Disorder, Everyone Needs A Hug, Hurt/Comfort, I'm so sorry, Jaemin's parents are dead, M/M, Minor Character Death, Renjun is a good brother, Trauma, Warnings May Change, except renjun and chenle's dad, jisung is a cinnamon roll, jisung is oblivious, like fuck that dude, protect Lee Jeno, this story is going to be really cute and really fucked up, yay for coping with trauma through writing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-01-21 02:14:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21291947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carsandtelephones37/pseuds/carsandtelephones37
Summary: It starts his senior year of high school. No, it starts when the kid who acts like a ghost starts showing up everywhere he goes. No, it starts when the student president has a panic attack in the local diner. No, it- Renjun doesn't know when it started, but he does know that leaving this town is going to be more complicated than he first thought.A high school AU for norenmin. Alternatively, a trio of boys deserved better, and they're going to fix it for each other.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun & Zhong Chen Le, Huang Ren Jun/Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin, Park Jisung/Zhong Chen Le
Comments: 7
Kudos: 100





	1. Chapter 1

The boy who sat in front of him on the bus was always sleeping. He’d set his head against the window or on someone’s shoulder if the person next to him didn’t mind. Renjun wondered about him a lot. How could someone be so trusting? He always felt on edge. Sleeping at night was hard enough. He could never see himself being so vulnerable on a bus full of high schoolers. It seemed like the boy was just leaving himself to the mercy of the student populous.

He’s pretty sure the boy is called Jaemin. At least, that’s what the kid he fell asleep on called him while shaking him awake to tell him they’d reached his stop. Renjun shook his head, standing up and following the pair. What if no one had woken him up? How would he have gotten home? Jaemin’s eyes were puffy with sleep. He had a harsh line on his cheek, probably from the other kid’s jacket. Renjun shuffled through the seats, clutching tight to his backpack straps. He hated this part of the day most. In the morning, kids were mostly docile, if a bit disgruntled. In the evening they were most likely to pull shit just for fun. He watched the floor the whole way, glaring sharply. On the sidewalk he could at least watch the shadows. On the bus he was defenseless. He smiled gently at the bus driver, she was always kind to him. He didn’t believe she deserved the same harsh treatment he thought was his duty to return to his schoolmates. 

Jaemin was ahead of him on his walk home. The boy drifted along the sidewalk like he was drunk, or maybe a ghost. Almost entirely aimless. Renjun felt slightly irritated. He didn’t want to pass Jaemin, but the boy was walking so damn slow. He sighed and increased his pace. When he was walking practically right behind the Jaemin, the boy turned to look at him.

“Oh hey, Renjun, you aren’t usually headed this way right now, what’s up?”

Renjun was startled, “Why do you know what time I go home?”

“Oh, well..” Jaemin smiled a little, “You pass by my house at night. I’m usually up and I like to sit in the window. You usually skateboard, right? You go way too fast and I’ve never seen you wear a helmet.”

Figures. The weird, cute sleepy kid is the only one paying him any attention. Does he have to figure his way out of this or..?

“Anyways, you should be careful, there’s all kinds of people out on the street at night,” Jaemin’s voice grew a bit quiet. The somber tone vanished almost immediately though as he seemed to take note of his surroundings.

“Here’s me,” He pointed to an A-frame house with a large window for the loft space. The paint was peeling, but the garden was quite well tended. “I’ll see you tomorrow Renjun!”

Renjun watched Jaemin walk his same, ghost-like walk up the driveway and disappear into the house. He fidgeted with his backpack and kept on walking. He felt eyes on his back, and glanced towards Jaemin’s house. A small figure was pressed against the window, half hidden by curtains. Huh.

His own house was only a few away. The grass was all dead in the yard. It crunched under Renjun’s feet as he cut across the front lawn. He went to unlock the door, but it was already cracked open. God, he’d worry about their house getting broken into if they had anything worth stealing. He knew better than to leave anything valuable at home by this point though. If it didn’t get stolen, his father would surely break it, sell it for alcohol money, or light it on fire in the backyard. He’d rather choose for himself. He may have similar desires but at least he wasn't always drunk and he didn’t ever touch anyone’s things except for his own. 

He was hit with the smell of cigarettes and tteokbokki. That meant his dad was home, but so was Chenle. The younger boy always made an effort to cook dinner when he got home. When their dad fell off the wagon, Chenle sort of took on a motherly role. Maybe he thought if he pretended to be Mom, Dad wouldn’t look so lost all the time. It worked a little, but now their Dad seemed to expect Chenle would take care of everything. It pissed Renjun off, frankly, but he was pretty sure the old man would’ve given up on the house anyways.

He stopped in his bedroom long enough to hide his backpack on the hook outside his window, then went to the kitchen to check on Chenle. The younger boy was facing the stove, wiggling a little to music only he could hear. 

Renjun ruffled his hair, “How was your day? You had a math test, right?”

Chenle stiffened at first but relaxed when he realized it was just Renjun, “Not terrible, I did really well on the test.” He giggled, “I swear, if Mr. Kim leaves to flirt with the art teacher one more time.. I guess he’s always been too distracted to teach but that’s just because Minsung’s been sneaking pot brownies into the teacher’s lounge the whole semester.”

Renjun snorted and reached around with a spoon, stealing a bite straight from the pot on the stove. He burned his tongue and used it as an excuse to play dramatic. He widened his eyes and waved his hands at his face, hopping around a bit until Chenle was properly laughing and his cheeks scrunched up all the way. He likes it best when Chenle is happy. He’d do just about anything to make him laugh. 

A shout came from upstairs and Chenle’s face fell again. He turned back to the stove. Renjun felt anger simmer in his chest. Thumps trailed along the ceiling and shook the staircase until their father appeared in all his glory at the door frame. 

“Food done yet?” He was only slurring a little, probably not drunk enough to be angry yet. Renjun felt himself relax slightly. 

Chenle nodded furiously.

“I can’t hear you, do you remember how to answer or have you gotten that stupid?”

“Yes sir,” Chenle bit his lip, stirring a little more before turning off the stove. 

Renjun fought the urge to slam the bowls on the counter after he grabbed them from the cupboard, Chenle didn’t need to be afraid of him too. It wouldn’t matter that Renjun was angry at their father, Chenle would still make himself feel it. He’s like that, always trying to make things softer, make everyone feel calm.

They ate dinner in near silence. The only interruptions were Dad rattling his own dishes and shuffling in his seat. Chenle was sitting stock still. Renjun pleaded with his eyes for Chenle to look at him, but Chenle didn’t notice. He was too busy folding himself into a completely two-dimensional shape in his chair. Dad finished and tossed his bowls in the sink. He yanks open the refrigerator door and grabs a couple beers before marching back the way he came. After the telltale thuds receded to the far corner of the house, Renjun cleared his throat.

“You’re coming to the diner with me, right?”

A little glimmer of hope came into Chenle’s eyes.

“I get free milkshakes, right?”

Renjun snorted, “Always, freeloader,”

Chenle mock pouted at him, “Freeloader? Unbelievable, I cook you food, I wash your clothes, the least you can give your poor house-brother is a few strawberry milkshakes.”

“I’ll get you anything you want if you promise to never refer to yourself as house-brother again.” Renjun pressed his hands against his eyes and shook his head a little.

There was something a little too mischievous in Chenle’s grin. “Promise. I’ll grab my stuff.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a long wait! in this household we love and respect midterm anxiety or else..

Jeno hated crying in front of people. 

This was particularly unfortunate because Jeno cried easily and often, it was like an illness. He’d gotten good at doing it quietly though. Nearly everyday he cried on the bus ride home. His seatmate would always fall asleep though, so he was unlikely to see him, and the two of them sat towards the front, and no one ever really looked at them. It was practically a ritual at this point

Jeno had his face mask pulled up and his hood on. He let himself cry gently, the fabric on the lower half of his face catching all of his tears. He never shook, never sobbed harshly, and never scrunched up his face. He didn’t want any more external evidence than what was necessary. The boy who always sat with him was asleep already, though the bus had hardly just peeled out of the school lot. Jaemin was his name. He’d introduced himself at the start of the year, and shortly after asked if he could use Jeno’s shoulder to sleep on. He was doing so now, had his cheek pressed fully against the top of Jeno’s shoulder. It looked uncomfortable. Jeno winced a little, noticing the way Jaemin’s cheek was turning pink where it rested on a zipper. He wasn’t going to wake him now though, and felt a little guilty.

Taking note of how much Jaemin’s breathing had slowed, he relaxed further into his seat. He allowed his mind to flood with the thoughts he’d been fighting during the course of the day. All the fears, every little problem that had him on edge was settling in. He tried not to react as panic seized him. 

What if he looked stupid giving his speech earlier?

What if it wasn’t just one kid leaving notes in his locker, but a whole bunch? Maybe they all agreed with how awful he really was.

No, no one would care enough about him to talk about hating him like that, he couldn’t warrant that much attention. They probably just quietly disliked him. Maybe he was a part of a popular joke or something.

What if the teacher’s think he’s being manipulative by asking if they want his help all the time? Kids probably do that all the time to get letters of recommendation. Maybe he should approach differently. It would be rude if he suddenly stopped helping. 

He hadn’t finished typing up his notes during lunch, would he be too tired after finishing them tonight? His other homework might suffer. He might get a full round of bad grades from his assignments, maybe he’d even start a spiral back into failure.

He could feel his eyes glazing over. Not sleeping two full nights in a row wasn’t working for him. He’d asked for extra coffee from the staff room that afternoon and nearly burst into tears apologizing for overstepping. He hated that he was so needy, but hated more that he was so weak that he could hardly fight for himself. He felt pathetic. Above all, he was tired. He knew everything was worse when he was tired.

The bus slowed to a stop and he almost groaned. If the bus was stopped that meant he had to start moving. If he had to start moving then he had to continue into the second half of his day. He glanced down at where Jaemin was still out cold against his side. He gently shook the boy by his shoulder, murmuring under his breath that it was time to wake up now. Jaemin opened his eyes slowly, like doing so required all of his strength. He scrunched his eyebrows together, and stretched his arms out slowly.

“Do I have to get up now?”

Jeno coughed to cover a laugh. Jaeming looked like a cat that was being pushed from its bed, kneading at Jeno’s side by accident trying to get himself upright once more. After a bit of shuffling, both boys had their things and were tottering slowly through the long aisle of the bus. They were deposited shortly onto the sidewalk and joined by another boy in their grade, who’s name he wasn’t certain of but who was fairly infamous for having never smiled in all the time he’d been at the school. A lot of the other kids thought he was angry, but Jeno thought he just looked tired. Not sleepy tired, not the tired that he and Jaemin were, but a different, heavier kind of tired. The sort of tired that takes years to settle in. 

Jeno said his goodbyes to Jaemin and watched him disappear down the street ahead of the other boy. Jeno found himself feeling dazed on his journey home.

When he reached his room, he allowed himself to collapse on his bed briefly. After was the grueling process of sorting and rewriting and filing all of his notes. He had promised himself and enough other people that he knew he didn’t have a choice, but he didn’t have to like it. He crept downstairs a few times to make possibly more coffee than what was considered healthy, but worked steadily for several hours. He was pretty sure chemistry formulas were about to start falling out of his ears.

Sometime in the evening he was carrying his fourth cup of coffee cautiously up the stairs and he was stopped in his tracks by the lock on the front door clicking. He peered over the bannister and watched his mom let herself in and nearly drop against the front door. He watched her go through her routine of first hanging up her coat in the hall closet, setting her shoes neatly besides each other underneath, and pinning her hair back into a bun on top of her head. He wanted to go back down the stairs and hug her, but he also knew that would be upsetting her ‘getting home ritual’. He absentmindedly sipped his coffee and listened to the sounds of his mom shuffling through the kitchen, setting a kettle on the stove top, flicking the burner on and off three times, walking back to check that the door was locked, and going into the kitchen once again to make sure the stove was on and that there was actually water in the kettle. 

After he was sure she’d poured tea, checked the front door and the stove twice more in succession, he was safe to come back down. He smiled, rapped his knuckles on the side of the refrigerator four times, and stepped under the warm kitchen lights. His mom looked up wearily from where was leaning against the counter, shuffling envelopes like a card deck. She smiled back at him, and crossed the space to pull him into a tight hug. She pulled back and kissed his forehead once on each temple, then again. He could almost hear her counting in her head. His mom had always been measured and careful. She stuck to the same routine and any variation at all was far too chaotic. Jeno did his best to stick to the same schedules himself. He had practically measured how many seconds it took for her to measure out the sugar in her coffee. He knew that it was 8:35 PM because she had her phone open to a radio app that must be playing her favorite cooking show on low volume. After their cursory greetings, always the same, Jeno left her to listen to the radio drone about how to pick the best green onions and what herbs belong in which soups. He knew his coffee would still be warm by the time he reached his room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know these chapters are really short, but I'll try to start adding more plot. I've been gone for a long time, but this quarter is a lot less chaotic so hopefully I'll have more time to write!

It was 1:00 AM and Jeno was staring at the ceiling.

He meant to fall asleep hours ago, but the moment his body hit the sheets it was as if all of his nerves came back online. He could feel every crease in his blankets. His mouth was dry. He’d thought maybe because he was totally and completely exhausted, his body might let him sleep for once. He’d been wrong.

The clock crept slowly onward.

After what felt like years, he sat up. Everything in his room was blurring together. His chest felt tight and he wanted to run away from the pain but he didn’t know if he could stand upright. He gave it a try anyways, setting down one socked foot at a time and sinking them into the carpet. Wobbling, he found his closet and pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt, as well as a pair of sneakers that hadn’t seen daylight in a few months. As an afterthought, he put his wallet and phone in his back pocket.

He slid open his bedroom window as quietly as possible. The cool air hit him and he felt like he could finally breathe. For a moment he held as still as possible, just taking in what it felt like to be so exposed under the night sky. 

He carefully climbed out of the window, digging his feet into the roof shingles. When he was younger, he loved to just sit out here with his blankets and astronomy books, staring at the stars and trying to decipher them, as if they were a foreign language and they were trying to tell him something. Once, he fell asleep out there. He’d woken up to his mother screaming in a panic. She thought he’d been taken or that he’d run away. He’d spent several hours sitting on the couch with her, bringing her tea and whispering soothing words. If he was nervous, his mother was a wreck.

Now though, it was different. He knew how long his mother slept each night. Knew when to come back to the house, long after he’d calmed his racing heart and before anyone would know he was gone. 

He crept to the end of the roof, hung on to the edge and let himself hang by his hands. Like this, he could see through a first story window and into their living room. He felt like an action movie character. He’d bet that if he swung hard enough he could break through the glass. It would cut him, probably badly. For just a second, he felt his heartbeat pick up as he pictured himself bleeding out in his own living room, staining the carpet and helpless to do anything about it. For just a second, he let himself be filled with dread. Then he let go.

The tumble into the shrubbery in their front yard was probably Jeno’s least favorite part. His arms and legs always got scratched up. He was tough enough though, he brushed himself off and started walking down the street.

He loved when his neighborhood was quiet like this. At any moment, he could probably find an unlocked window and walk around in some middle aged families houses. He wouldn’t, but it was a funny thought to have. Not a single one of them would probably be awake right now. Entirely peaceful and trusting that everything would be the same as they left it when they woke up in the morning. That's how the whole place felt; too trusting. He felt safe knowing he was the sketchiest thing around.

After he left the neighborhood, he kept walking. His skin still felt like it was burning, so he let the nervous energy lead him further and further away. He kept going past the outskirts of town and straight into the centre. It was practically dead. All the little nine-to-five businesses, even the mom and pop shops were closed down. A few neon lights buzzed absentmindedly. He wondered if there was anyone inside. He watched through the glass of a small 1950’s themed diner at a small handful of people who looked exactly like you’d expect. Except, they also didn’t. One of them was the tired kid from his bus

Without thinking, he let himself into the restaurant, barely hearing the small mechanical chime announce his presence. The kid looked up from where he’d been standing behind the counter, sliding a pink milkshake across the counter to a young blond boy with a big grin. His furrowed features softened in recognition. 

“You’re Jaemin’s friend, right?” He asked, leaning against the bar.

Jeno nodded. He’d never heard the guy speak before, his voice sounded young considering how he looked kind of like a war vet.

“I’m Huang Renjun, I live next door to Jaemin,” He explained. Jeno distantly registered it as a chinese name. He also registered that he should probably say something instead of standing there like an idiot.

“I’m Lee Jeno, I live in the neighborhood across from yours,” Jeno forced himself to walk to the bar and hoist himself on to one of the red cushioned stools. Things he did like standing like a sad ghost without talking were probably why his only friend at the moment was a kid who’d spent most of their time together passed out. 

“I’m Chenle,” said the blond boy helpfully. “I’m his house-bro-” Renjun reached over fast as lightning and slapped a palm over Chenle’s mouth. A second later he jerked his hand back.

“Are you serious?” Renjun shook his hand, which Chenle had apparently licked in retaliation.

“Fucking unsanitary, I’m cutting you off of milkshakes for tonight.” Renjun grumbled, walking away to wash his hands.

Chenle just smiled broadly, “I’m his brother, also he’s lying about the milkshakes.”

As if on cue, Renjun returned. He tipped a blender he was holding over the cup, refilling Chenle’s drink. 

“This means nothing. You’re still insufferable, but I have to clean this out.”

Jeno watched the brothers interact with a warm feeling settling over him. He wondered what it was like to be that close with someone.

Renjun turned back to Jeno as if remembering that they were in a restaurant, and Jeno probably wanted something.

“Are you going to order anything or are you just here because you like the ambience.”

Jeno grinned. “Can I get a strawberry milkshake?”


	4. Chapter 4

Jaemin wasn’t sad. Though if he was being honest, he wasn’t really anything.

Four months on Amitriptyline put him in a haze so strong, he was often unsure if he was awake or sleeping. They were a good antidepressant, helped him keep away the panic and sleeplessness, but they sort of worked too well.

Jaemin woke up a few minutes after his third alarm went off. Mornings were hard. His vision blurred slightly and his whole body felt sluggish. He did his best not to get lost in the huge sweater he put on, and managed to put on his jeans without tripping and face planting. So far, so good.

The house was always too quiet. The only sounds were his own feet as he trudged to the coffee machine and quietly thanked god for caffeine. He poured a cup and hopped onto the counter to drink it. 

A memory flashed under his eyelids, his mother opening all the blinds and humming softly. He couldn’t remember what it sounded like, but he could picture it perfectly. It made something catch in his chest. 

He finished his first cup of coffee and filled his to-go container, grabbing his bottle of Amitriptyline and struggled with the cap until it popped off, sending little capsules flying across the tile. He dropped down, picked one up, and swallowed it with coffee. The rubbery taste coated the back of his throat and he ignored it long enough to put all the pills back. He dug out a package of cookies from the cupboard and grabbed a handful. They weren’t breakfast but he felt he deserved to be able to eat cookies at any time of the day. Life had dealt him enough crap to at least give him that.

He grabbed his backpack from the entryway, where he’d left it the night before, and headed out the front door. He pulled weeds from the flower beds while waiting for the bus to show up. He liked to think his plants looked forward to seeing him in the morning and evening, consistent as the sun. Nothing was really blooming right now, but most of the things in the garden still made their presence known, sticking their necks out of the soil.

Jaemin ate a few more cookies and left the rest on the fence post. A small family of squirrels had taken up residence in the big tree near the front lawn. He liked to leave them treats as payment for entertaining him as he watched out the upstairs window each night. 

In this way, Jaemin had plenty of friends. He was rarely lonely.

The bus arrived and he clung to the rail as the steps shook beneath him. He sort of hated the bus. Well, actually, he hated it a lot, but he didn’t trust himself to get to school any other way. His legs were too weak to bike that far, and cars were.. He didn’t want to take a car. His dad’s truck was still in the garage but he hadn’t touched it more than starting it once a month so it wouldn’t die from lack of use.

Jaemin dropped into his seat next to Jeno. The boy looked happier than he had in awhile. Jeno usually wore a look of apprehension, like each day he was going into battle. Today, he looked dreamy. He even greeted Jaemin warmly, rather than just pausing to smile at him like usual.

“Hey yourself,” Jaemin teased. “You look well, did you finally sleep?”

Jeno stiffened, “Who said I wasn’t sleeping?”

“Your under-eyes.”

“I should give them a stern talking to about sharing secrets.” Jeno noted absentmindedly, already opening a book of what looked like chemistry formulas.

Jaemin snorted, making himself comfortable and tipping his head on to Jeno’s shoulder. He mostly blamed this habit on tiredness, but if he were honest, he was just grateful for the physical contact. He closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of Jeno’s entire frame rattling with his breath. He felt a little guilty, but he loved the feeling of knowing certainly that Jeno was someone alive, someone with sturdy breathing. Someone who wouldn’t slip away from him without warning.

He stayed like this, letting the warm arms of sleep take hold of him, until the entire bus shook with a speed bump. Jaemin’s eyes flew open. They were at school.

-

He shuffled slowly through the hall. Everything took on a sort of blurry quality around the edges, like everything around him had been painted in watercolor. He folded himself up in his chair at the back of his first class. English wasn’t so bad, his teacher loved to tell stories. Her voice was soft and melodic. Jaemin could be half-listening the whole time and not feel like he’d missed a single thing. 

He daydreamed about the woods behind his house. The whole forest seemed to wake up with the sun and start humming with a hundred different songs. He’d sit in the moss and watch little colonies of bugs or animals go about their lives, a million years apart from his own. Sometimes he’d dream about being small enough to hide away out there. Curl inside a hollow tree and watch Autumn strip the leaves from the trees.

He meant to pull himself out of his thoughts but suddenly he was in his third class and sharing a desk with Jeno in the chemistry lab. He blinked hard. Losing time like this was his least favorite thing. It felt like the whole world spun faster for just a moment, and by the time he caught up he’d missed everything.

Jeno nudged him, “Do you want me to text you a copy of my notes?”

Jaemin smiled and nodded. He was pretty sure he’d fail this class if Jeno wasn’t so determined to keep him afloat.

“What do you need me to do?” Jaemin whispered back, noticing his classmates flicking on the Bunsen burners.

Jeno walked him through what the teacher had talked about, sliding his half-finished lab report between them. Jaemin nodded along as they dipped a one dollar bill into ethanol and water. Jeno explained how even when held over an open flame, only the alcohol would burn up, and the paper would be unharmed. 

Jaemin was really grateful for how Jeno took care of him. Jeno never asked Jaemin where he went when he spaced out like that, never got annoyed or angry that he didn’t seem to pay attention. Instead he was kind and thoughtful. Sure he teased him a lot, but he was there when Jaemin needed him.

As they watched the paper bill catch on fire, completely unharmed by the heat, Jaemin made a silent promise to himself to always look out for Jeno if he got the chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again for the delay, I've been doing my best to research effective writing and plotting because I really want this story to be good for you guys. Also, the medication Jaemin mentions does exist. The side effects he experiences are somewhat extreme but not uncommon.


End file.
